


Throwing Caution Out The Window

by loochskywalker



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Nipple Play, Open Relationships, Oral Sex, gentle gentle gentle, lazy summer days, top mitch marner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 15:57:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16957023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loochskywalker/pseuds/loochskywalker
Summary: There’s a pause between them where Brownie tries really hard not to think any further than Mitch’s hand. If he… they’re just… it’s summer and Brownie feels slow and he doesn’t want to think just wants to feel Mitch touch him a little bit longer.





	Throwing Caution Out The Window

**Author's Note:**

> this is just, this is just porn there's nothing else really to it. I edited it once so it's basically completely unedited and it was struggle to write the last part. I was going to add a bit about connor calling Freddie to tell him what happened but decided not to. Maybe because I was lazy and maybe because I wanted to keep the connor/freddie stuff subtle. depends how much credit you want to give me.

Brownie doesn’t know how it happens. Mitch and him end up spending time together during the offseason because neither of them go far. It feels like they’re still right at each other’s doorsteps even as the rest of the team fans out across the world.

So it’s easy, their friendship is easy.

But Brownie thinks maybe, in hindsight, he should have put up a little more of a fight.

His skin is sensitive from spending all day in the sun, and Mitch isn’t doing much better, pinking up as well. Brownie’s hair feels sticky, and his eyes feel droopy. They spent all day relaxing in the sun and yet, all Brownie wants to do when they get back to his place is continue to be lazy, continue to relax. 

He starfishes onto his bed and turns the TV on, but his head lolls to the side and he watches out through the sliding glass door. He can see a plane in the reflection of the building next door, and two seagulls fly by like their chasing something. There’s laughter from his TV but Brownie is transfixed by the calm sunny day just outside his window.

Somewhere along the line Mitch comes into the room and flops down on the bed as well, groaning softly into the covers and rubbing his face along the comforter. Brownie manages to turn his head and watch as Mitch, now shirtless and with his hair wet, gets cozy in his bed.

“You shower?” Brownie asks. His voice croaks like it’s been overused, like he’s been swallowing sand.

Mitch seems to be moving just as slowly as Brownie and so it takes him a few seconds to finally turn his head to look back at Brownie. He blinks his big blue eyes a few times and Brownie can’t help but stare at the way his lashes fan out against his flushed cheeks. 

“Yeah,” Mitch says, languid and smooth, “the beach always makes me feel gross.”

Brownie nods, he’s going to agree but he wants to look back out the window again, “I should shower,” he says instead, sighing almost dreamily.

“Maybe after a nap,” Mitch says.

“Mmm,” Brownie agrees as his eyes slide shut, “that sounds good,”

He feels Mitch move then, and if he had the energy he’d probably jump in shock. But he doesn’t. The way Mitch’s fist clenches in his shirt just over his stomach makes Brownie’s abs clench. 

“What’re you doing?” Brownie asks looking down towards Mitch’s hand as he moves it up, exposing Brownie’s abdomen.

“Helping,” Mitch says and doesn’t going further to explain it. What he does do is keep tugging up Brownie’s shirt until it’s bunched up under his chin. “Sit up,” Mitch demands and Brownie grumbles but complies but only enough so that Mitch can pull his shirt up and hook it behind his neck.

“What does this help me with?” Brownie asks. 

“Sleeping,” Mitch says but his fingers haven’t moved from Brownie’s chest, tracing looping patterns all over his skin, “you got burned,” he says.

“Yeah,” Brownie isn’t bothered by that, when doesn’t he get burned in the summer?

“Does it hurt?” Mitch asks his finger linger at the top of his pec, just below his collarbone where his skin feels the most raw, the most sensitive.

“Not really,” Brownie says and swallows, “just ya know… sore… sensitive.”

“Oh,” Mitch says.

There’s a pause between them where Brownie tries really hard not to think any further than Mitch’s hand. If he… they’re just… it’s summer and Brownie feels slow and he doesn’t want to think just wants to feel Mitch touch him a little bit longer.

The only explanation is that Mitch must be feeling the same way because he moves his finger down, and softly circles Brownie’s nipple, just once. They both pause again, listening to each other breathe, waiting for something to break between the two of them. Whatever it is, stays sturdy, and Mitch’s finger circles him again.

Brownie let’s his eyes shut, still refuses to think, and Mitch’s finger doesn’t stop. It makes Brownie feel restless, feel antsy, like there’s pop rocks in his joints and he needs to just reach out, to hit something. His fists clench against the bed and he’s so close to whining. If Mitch could just.

And then Mitch’s mouth is on his. Brownie lets out a soft moan and easily parts his lips, as if he was waiting for this all along. Mitch melts into him, kissing him a little messily, and way too easily. But it feels really fucking good. Brownie can’t help but reach up, gently run his hands through Mitch’s wet hair, rub his thumb behind Mitch’s ear.

They aren’t the type of friends who make out, they’ve never done anything like this. Brownie always had his suspicions about Mitch but they were never concrete. This should be a big deal, this should be sending him reeling. But it’s like whatever left over energy Brownie had, Mitch is pulling from him. And Brownie likes it way too much to want Mitch to stop, for anything. Even if they are just friends, even if it’s just because Freddie’s in Denmark, Brownie can’t find any part of him that wants Mitch to stop.

Mitch’s mouth is such a good distraction that Brownie all but freezes in shock when his finger is replaced by his thumb and it’s swiping over one of his nipples.

“Oh,” Brownie forces out through clenched teeth, “that’s…” but he stops. 

“Yeah?” Mitch asks, like he gets it, “feel good?”

“Sensitive,” Brownie says, breathless.

Mitch pulls away so their lips aren’t touching anymore and he looks down at where his thumb is, swiping over Brownie’s nipple again and watching him shudder.

“Do you do this?” Mitch asks as his eyes shoot up to watch Brownie’s face, hesitant like he doesn’t want to tear his eyes away from Brownie’s chest, like it’s the most difficult thing he’s ever done.

“Not with you,” Brownie responds, his voice choked and rough still. It’s not an answer, not really. Mitch knows that anyway, they don’t do  _ anything _ together, not like this. Nothing like this. 

Mitch leans down and kisses him again, quick and soft, just capturing Brownie’s bottom lip in between his. He wants to echo Mitch’s question back at him just to see what he says. Does he do this? It’s an open secret that Brownie does, the whole team knows. But Mitch, he’s always held his cards a little closer to his chest. He’s open about so much, never scared to show his affection. But this? He’s never said. Even if his eyes linger a little in the locker room, he’s never gave Brownie any indication.

Freddie had his suspicions, pointing them out to Brownie every now and then. And Brownie had, maybe a little bitterly, told Freddie they weren’t exclusive if he wanted to test that out. But Freddie had just laughed at him and said, “don’t think he’s into this.” 

Maybe this is what Freddie meant. 

Mitch moves then, shifting so he’s straddling Brownie’s thighs, and he fans his fingers down Brownie’s chest. No nails, just the pads of his fingers spread out on his chest, leaving a trail of overactive nerves in their wake that Brownie wants to reach out and itch, just to feel something more substantial. 

He’s being too gentle, it’s making Brownie want to rip his hair out. He’s still too slow though, too languid, the heavy feeling only amplified with the way Mitch is touching him. He’s not tied down, but still all he can do is clench his fists and hope Mitch just, gets to something. 

His next move shocks Brownie enough to set him into motion. He arches his back so suddenly he’s gasping in surprise at himself as much as he is at the feel of Mitch’s mouth as it latches itself around Brownie’s nipple. 

“Oh,” is all he says and he feels Mitch’s lips curl into a smile along his chest. He sucks lightly but it still makes Brownie’s core shake. He doesn’t know if it’s just his sun hot skin that’s making all of this so much more, or if he’s usually this sensitive and just hasn’t paid enough attention to it. But god, it’s almost too much. Even as Mitch pulls back enough to just lightly lick at his chest. 

Brownie has to press his hands to his face just to hide, feeling way too exposed right now. 

That gets Mitch’s attention and he pulls away from Brownie to tug at his wrists. They stare at each for a few beats, and Brownie wonders what Mitch sees when he looks down. Because Brownie just sees a low blazing fire with a hint of curiosity staring back at him. 

Maybe Mitch doesn’t do this.

“What do you want?” Brownie asks, surprising himself. 

Mitch doesn’t reply at first and his eyes trail down Brownie’s face, down his chest. He seems contemplative like he really didn’t think he’d get this far. 

“Yo...you taste like you’re still at the beach” Mitch says and Brownie laughs, flexing his fingers so he can feel the way his tendons move against Mitch’s hands, where they’re still wrapped around his wrists. “Will you let me fuck you?” He asks, his voice quieter than before and Brownie nods without even thinking about it. Doesn’t need to.

For as sun drunk as they both still are they wrestle out of their clothes pretty quickly. He’s surprised to feel Mitch’s skin on his, still a little damp and cool from the shower he had taken earlier. It makes Brownie hesitate, feel his abs tighten as they try to pull away only to find the bed has little give and Mitch isn’t letting him get too far.

It’s fine. It’s great. Because Mitch still feels good, solid. He’s not as big as Brownie is used to but they still fit together. Chest to chest. He’s not consumed or overwhelmed, but Mitch is still enough to anchor him to the spot.

Mitch fingers Brownie expertly in a way that he hadn’t been expecting, but he takes it without comment, rolling his hips up and letting out weak moans. Mitch just dusts Brownie’s hips with kisses, tipping his eyes up to look at Brownie through those thick lashes, cheek brushing against Brownie’s cock. He looks so pretty down there and Brownie wants to nudge him to the side, just enough to put his mouth to work but then Mitch curls his fingers and Brownie doesn’t think he’d be able to take it.

Mitch leaves him panting, easy for it, eyes going hazy. He turns his head to the side, and tries to put together what he sees but he can’t. Mitch isn’t exactly going to town on him, just twisting his fingers into Brownie, a gentle rocking motion that rubs the pads of his fingers against Brownie’s prostrate in a structured rhythm. And yet just like every other part of his body, it feels like so much more.

For as eager as Brownie expected Mitch to be, he’s surprisingly patient, enraptured by the way Brownie’s body starts to open for him. But Mitch doesn’t have the world's largest fingers, which is fine because he doesn’t have the worlds largest cock either. 

“Ready, hey, I’m ready,” Brownie mutters, eventually.

“Okay,” Mitch says and slowly withdraws his fingers. He stares down at Brownie, not rushing forward like Brownie anticipated. Brownie wonders if he’s still feeling lethargic or if this is just who he is, patient and steady.

Brownie reaches up when Mitch moves up his body, pressing his fingers into Mitch’s shoulder blades and pulling him down. Mitch lets out a quiet ‘oof’ as he collides into Brownie’s chest, but lets Brownie kiss him without any resistance. He tries to see if Mitch still tastes like he’s at the beach too but maybe that doesn’t cling to lips, or maybe Mitch just tastes different. But beneath all that Brownie realizes that Mitch is good at this. He kisses back not just with his mouth but with his whole body, grinding his hips into Brownie’s, and letting his thumb stroke over the shell of Brownie’s ear. 

He’s gentle but he’s everywhere. 

Brownie tries to press himself even closer as he feels Mitch’s teeth closing gently around his bottom lip. Still gentle, still all consuming.

“Connor,” Mitch says as he pulls away.

Brownie just whines in response and leans up to kiss Mitch again but only gets away with it for a split second.

“Condom, come on,” Mitch presses.

“Don’t worry about it,” Connor tells him, “don’t want to let you go.”

Mitch let’s out a soft chuckle, “you’re an idiot,” he says, but his voice is fond, endearing. There’s no hint of resistance there.

“Well, you’re about to do it, so what does that make you?” 

Mitch smiles and leans down, pressing a kiss to the side of Brownie’s neck, “easy,” He says and kisses Brownie again, “helpless,” another kiss, “horny.”

Brownie laughs happily, turning his head so his lips brush against Mitch’s temples “then put your back into it champ.”

It’s still a bad idea and if Brownie had more energy he’d insist but… it feels impossible to break away from that moment. They should have prepared for this but he’s not sure how he was supposed to see this coming. Besides this way, Mitch barely has to pull away to line himself up as Brownie clings to him.

He’s not that big which Brownie could have called but it just means his body doesn’t burn or ache when Mitch pushes in. All he feels is an easy glide and sighs, content, into Mitch’s mouth. He feels Mitch shudder in his arms and rolls his hips up to meet him, getting Mitch the rest of the way into his body. 

It pushes at something deep in him, satisfies some sort of feeling that Brownie can’t parse more than to think, ‘this is it, this is what it’s like to be fucked.’ It’s a feeling he’d die in if he could. 

Mitch rocks his body in smooth short movements, the kind that don’t overwhelm but leave a shocking trail that travels up through Brownie’s body. It’s the kind of feeling that’s just  _ good _ and Brownie can’t help but whimper through it. 

“Is it, is it good?” Brownie asks, digging his fingernails just so into the skin of Mitch’s back.

Mitch just groans in response at first, leaning down and kissing Brownie once, “yeah, what kind of question is that,” he forces out.

Brownie laughs, “just don’t stop,” and his voice comes out ragged

That doesn’t seem to be a problem for Mitch who switches between crowding close to Brownie, kissing him deep and thorough and making the muscles of Brownie’s groin strain around his hips, and pulling back to balance on his hands, stare down at where they’re connected.

It’s so different from anything Brownie’s used to, but no less intense because of it. 

“Fuck, Brownie,” Mitch chokes out before leaning down one last time. He bites brownie’s bottom lip and lets out a low groan and his hips stutter.

He’s coming and Brownie reaches up gripping the back of Mitch’s neck and digging his nails in as Mitch tenses above him. When he pulls out Brownie let’s out a soft noise, his body sore, with Mitch’s cum starting to leak out of him. It should feel gross, it should be a total turn off, all of it. But his dick pulses insistently and he knees Mitch hard in the side.

“Ow,” Mitch whines, “relax, Brownie, jeez,” and then he’s leaning down and Brownie wonders if it’s possible to award a player The Hart, just because of their mouth. 

“Shit, Mitch,” Brownie pants, gripping Mitch’s hair tight in his fingers. Normally he’d feel bad but Mitch doesn’t stop, taking Brownie’s cock deep into his throat and letting out a small whimper that Brownie feels all the way up his chest. 

When he cums he’s left with his ears ringing, just a little bit. Out of it just enough that he’s a little surprised when the next thing he notices is Mitch kissing him again, but soft and a little bit like he’s searching for attention. Of course Mitch would want to cuddle after sex.

Brownie’s arm comes down around him and hauls him in close and he kisses Mitch back. 

“No wonder everyone on this team likes you,” Brownie says.

Mitch snorts and pulls back, “Shut up,” he mutters. 

**Author's Note:**

> as always if you leave kudos and comments i will die (of happiness).


End file.
